Th Lady, or the Dragon?
by Hakeber
Summary: OneShot. Based on as story I read in English. Sorry the summary sucks. It's a good story thought. Complete!


**I am really pathetic. I already have two fics I'm working on and now I'm doing this. Well, at least, this one will be done a lot faster. I'll get back to my other stories as soon as I finish this. I promise.**

**Okay, this is based on the story _The Lady, or the Tiger_. I read it in English and I though of making it Harry Potter-related in a sense. I must warn you, if you don't like OOC situations, then don't read this. Voldemort is kind of different in this story.**

**I don't own Harry Potter characters. The only one that is mine is the daughter. Nothing else.**

**The Lady, or the Dragon?**

**By Hakeber**

I learned a very important lesson at the age of fourteen. I learned that in certain situations, there may not be any right answer. You've got to leave it up to fate. My momma taught me that.

Now, I want to show it with you. My life is almost over, and I have no one else to whom I can tell my tale. This story goes into the depths of the human heart, to see what you'd do in a situation. Now I ask you: the Lady, or the Dragon?

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Many years ago, before the second war of the magical community, and before Harry Potter was even born, there was a semi barbaric wizard by the name of Voldemort. He had begun to enjoy the comforts of being the so called the 'Lord of the Land', and didn't want to stop it anytime soon. He was neither completely bad, nor was he completely good.

Now, Voldemort had a particular favorite way of punishment (even though any type was his favorite), which in a sense, made that part of him barbaric. He had taken an idea from a late civilization (probably the Romans) that made his victims tremble in fear. He had a dungeon that had two doors, identical in appearance. But it was behind those doors that made the big difference.

Behind one door was a Hungarian Horntail. He preferred to use a female, because she was more brutal in her attacks, being sensitive and all. He wouldn't feed her for a week after the trial, so that she'd be ready. If that door with the Horntail was chosen, the man in question would instantly be devoured, a sign of his guilt.

If he opened that door, a group of hired mourners would come out and lead the funeral procession out of the dungeons. The people would leave wondering where the youth- because the main perpetrators were young men- went wrong.

But if he opened the other door, he'd be greeted with a young lady. She was the most beautiful that Voldemort could offer. If the man opened that door, a separate door would open and a priest would come out to perform the wedding ceremony. People would cheer as the newly weds left on a bed of rose petals.

It didn't matter if the man was married at all, he was still given that lady behind the door, as a gift of his innocence.

This, Voldemort reasoned, was a fair, and very generous verdict. It was completely up to the accused what his fate would be. Sometimes, the Horntail would come out. Other times, the lady would come. He couldn't blame Voldemort for what door he chose, so Voldemort was in the clear.

When word was sent that a man would be sent to the Dark Lord's Dungeon, as it was often referred to, all the witches and wizards in the area would flock to the dungeons, to see what was to come of the accused.

Now, Voldemort had a daughter, a girl named Merope, named after his mother. She was very gorgeous at the age of eighteen, and almost just as barbaric as her father. She had a lover (and I don't mean in that sense) named James. He wasn't liked by her father and so when he found out he was sure to send him to the Dungeons.

A trial took place and, I'm sad to say, this young man's fate was to be decided in the Dark Lord's Dungeon. As soon as the decree went out, people wondered what he did to deserve such a punishment. It leaked out that he had become smitten with Merope, and the people wondered why Voldemort was so against it.

When the day came, Voldemort sat with his followers in the high box. Merope sat next to her father, wringing her hands.

You see, when she found out what would happen to her lover, she had done something no one else had ever done before. She had discovered which door held the lady and which one held the Horntail.

Not only that, she knew who the girl was. It was a pretty wench, named Lily. She often saw James and Lily talking together, although for a short amount of time. But a lot could be said in a short space of time, how was she supposed to know what they were talking about?

It was time. Trumpets blared and James walked out into the dungeons. He stood straight and proud, and the crowd gasped. He was so tall and handsome! No wonder Merope wanted him! Please let him live!

James turned, as was customary, to the Dark Lord and bowed. But he wasn't looking at Voldemort. Ever since the verdict was read, he knew that she would be consumed by the urge to know what laid behind those two doors. He had been around her long enough, that he knew that he knew her character.

Looking at her, he instantly knew that she hadn't disappointed him. She knew, it was in her eyes. He sent her a glance that clearly asked, "Which?"

She sat there, her face paler than the rest. The question was asked quickly; it must be answered just as quick. She rested her hand carelessly on the top of the bar in front of her. In one quick movement, she pointed to the door on the left. No one else saw her. They were all too busy staring at James.

He nodded, showing that he understood what she had said (or not said as the case may be). He turned on his heels and without a single ounce of hesitation, and opened the door on the left.

Now, the point of this tale is this: what did young James greet when he opened that door? To figure that out, we'd have to go into the depths of the human heart, and through a maze that is the human conscience. What would you have done?

How many times would Merope was up and shriek in agony as she sees her love be ripped to shreads over and over in her head? But how many more times could she cry out as she sees him opening the door to Lily in joy at another chance at life, to be married away and unreachable, being wed by the minister in front of her very eyes?

Ever since she found out the truth of the doors, she had spent days upon days, figuring out what she'd do. She knew that her love would ask, and after a week, she knew how she would answer him. The door on the left.

As my mother has told me, I'm not the person who can take the responsibility to answer that question. It's up to you to decide.

So what did James meet when he opened the door on the left: the Lady, or the Dragon?

**This is the FIRST story I have successfully finished. Hope you guys like it! R&R telling me what you think came out of that door. I'd really like to know. Now back to my stories!**


End file.
